Living In Lies
by luvin-benadam
Summary: Tradgedy does strange things to people. What happens when just that happens? Jordan is held hostage by a madman with a bomb. Lotsa angst...mostly JordanWoody
1. Raindrops

**Disclaimer: please don't make me say it! **

**just a little idea I had and decided to play with, review please!**

XXXXXXXXXX 

She watched as the rain crept its way up the windshield, only to be forced down by the wipers. Again and again it tried and failed and Jordan couldn't, for the life of her, make sense of why something would keep trying to attempt the impossible when it had failed so many times before. In a way it reminded her of herself. She was the raindrops, forced up the front windshield by the blaring wind as they drove down the highway, pushed down and shoved back to the beginning, only to try and make the way to the top despite the fact that you knew it was impossible.

She looked over to Garret in the drivers seat next to her, his eyes focused unblinkingly on the blurry road ahead. Sensing her dark eyes on him, Garret turned and looked. He could see that the light in her eyes had faded considerably since that fateful night when Woody was shot. It was as though the darkness she had been fighting her whole life was starting to take over her bit by bit until there was nothing left.

"Are you ok Jordan?" he said, his fatherly voice one of the few things Jordan found comfort in nowadays.

She continued to stare at him in silence before turning her attention dark to road where the raindrops still insisted on attempting the inevitable.

"Ya I'm fine," she replied, putting on the facade she always maintained. "Just tired."

But Garret was smarter than that and could see right through her lie. However he was in no mood to argue a battle he knew he would loose and decided to leave it be. He pulled the car off the main road and drove to her building, stopping outside the front and shutting it off.

"Jordan I know this case was hard for you. My cellphone will be on all night if you need me. Call anytime," he said. Her silence was starting to scare him.

"Sure," she nodded. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before grabbing her bag and running from the rain into her apartment.

The lights were all off and all was silent as she inserted her key and turned. Not even the blinking light from the answering machine was going off. Finding the darkness a comfort, she walked over to the answering machine and clicked it on. It was time to delete some old messages; wash away the last bit of hope she had been clinging to since Woody had been shot.

"You have no new messages," the impersonal voice said. "First saved message," it continued.

"Jordan it's Garret. Where the hell are you? You're an hour late!" Garret's voice rang out and reberverated off her dark walls. Jordan laughed to herself.

"To delete this message press 7. To save it press 9," the womans voice said again. Jordan pressed seven. "Next message."

"Hey Jordan!" Woody's enthuastic voice rang out. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard it, it was the message he had left for her on her birthday and she had been so mad at herself about turning down the ring that she couldn't bring herself to delete the message he had left before going to the office to surprise her. "Happy birthday!" Jordan could almost see the goofy little grin he surely had plastered on his face as he left it. On the outside it made her smile but a little piece of her heart broke off. "Just wanted to tell you that. Love ya," he made a kissy noise before hanging up.

Jordan deleted all the other messages on her answering maching excpet that one. It was the only thing of him she had left and she wasn't letting it go. A sudden realization dawned on her; she needed to see him. Knowing all to well that he would not be very happy to see her, she left her apartment and got into her car, driving the all-to familiar route to his place.

She raised her fist and knocked on her door, straightening her simple black long-sleeve shirt and smoothing out her darkwash jeans. Looking down at her black boots she heard the door open.

"Jordan," Woody's surprised voice answered. He was so caught off guard that he forgot to use the cold tone he normally reserved especially for her. She looked up into his peircing blue eyes and the two of them just stood there staring at each other. Woody didn't even think to ask why she was there.

"Do you ever just ..." Jordan started, not taking her eyes off his. "Not want to go home?" she finished, shoving her hands deep into her pockets and trying to keep the scared expression off her face. Woody's features remained emotionless.

"Ya," he answered quietly after a slight pause to contemplate her question. "All the time."

Jordan watched as he fidigted uncomfortably with the dish towel strewn across his shoulder.

"Hey who's there?" a voice from inside Woody's apartment answered. Lu Simmons appeared, her blonde hair thrown into a neat ponytail, her jeans and shirt covered in what looked like flour.

"Jordan hey!" she answered happily. "I didn't know you were coming. Woody's just teaching me to make apple pie. You should come in and help!"

Jordan was unnerved by the happiness in her tone. She looked uncomfortably around, her eyes all the while avoiding Woody's.

"Ummm ... thanks but no. I really have to be heading home. Just stopped to say hi," she said, plastering a fake smile that Woody could see right through onto her face and raising her hand to wave goodbye.

"No really!" Lu continued. "You live alone, it's pouring rain and you're going to be all by yourself. At least stay for a drink."

"Sorry, I really am. But I just finished a case with Garret and I'm totally exhausted and all I want to do is go home," she finished unconvincingly.

"But Jordan," Woody quietly interjected. "You just told me ..." he let the rest of his sentence hang.

"Oh look at the time," Jordan said, raising her wrist but not looking at her watch. "I really gotta go. See you around," she said to Lu, ignoring Woody completely and turning on her heel, walking the seemingly endless hall back to the elevator. She could feel both Woody's and Lu's eyes on her as she retreated. Sparing herself the awarkness and waiting for the elevator with them both watching, she walked past the sliding doors and took the stairs, the clicking of her heels on the cement doing nothing for the headache she had miraciously recieved.

Watching as she left without so much as a backward glance, Woody closed the door on Jordan. Instead of the other way around.


	2. Bomb

Jordan went to the only place that felt like home to her; the morgue. She knew no one would be there but that was part of the reason she went. There was something oddly comforting about being alone in a dark building by yourself with nothing but dead bodies to keep you company. Strange as she knew it was, it didn't stop her. She took the elevator up and walked into the lobby, only to find that she was wrong. She was not alone, no that she was not. Sitting on a plastic chair with a his head and hands in his lap, was a man.

"Excuse me sir can I help you?" she asked. He looked up from his lap and into her eyes. A grin broke out on his face but Jordan noticed that it wasn't a 'happy to meet you" kind a grin. It was more of a 'glad we finally meet I know all about you but you knowing nothing about me' stalker grin.

The shadows played menacingly across his face, throwing into sharp relief his gruesome features. It was marked with scars from an abusive past and one of his cheeks was burned dead. A large chunk of his nose was missing and one of his eyes was lopsided and contiued to stare partially at his nose. Jordan couldn't help but gasp.

"I wasn't expecting anyone until morning tomorrow," he said. His voice was thick was age and Jordan could hear the damage years of smoking had done to his lungs.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, pushing the fear out of her voice and taking a step towards him. He got up from her chair and Jordan noticed that he was trying to conceal something bulky under his windbreaker.

"Follow me," he said with a smirk. Walking towards the 'Staff Only' doors, Jordan interupted.

"Uh you can't go in there. It's staff only," she said.

"Ummm ... actually I am," he said turning around to face Jordan and ripping open his jacket. Jordan's jaw fell open at the sight of a bomb with enough ammo to blow up three highrises strapped to his chest. "Come doctor ... I'm sorry I didn't catch your name," he said like one commenting on the weather.

"Cavanaugh. Jordan Cavanaugh," she said, snapping out of her stupor and following his retreating back through the doors. She thought about turning and running while he wasn't looking but his voice inturupted her thoughts.

"Don't even think about it Jordan," he said without turning around. He pulled a gun from his pants pocket and turned around to look at her. "Ladies first."

XXXXXXXXXX 

Before Jordan knew it night was over. She had spent the remaining eight hours of darkness in the crypt, sitting on a table while the man sat and stared at her. He had allowed her one phone call and she was allowed to tell whoever she called anything she wanted. Not understanding the man and what he was up to, Jordan didn't complain but grabbed her phone he had taken away from her and thought about who to call.

'_My cellphone will be on all night if you need me. Call anytime,'_ Garret's words rang through her head. Thinking that Woody would probably care less that she was being held hostage by a man with a gun and thirty pounds of gunpowder, she called Garret. Naturally he had called the SWAT team, hostage negotiation and the Boston PD and before Jordan could say boo half the city of Boston was parked outside the morgue. Woody included. Not a second of the day went by when he turned his police radio off and he had heard the call about a hostage being held at the morgue with a suicide bomber.

With Lu gone he had been free to call Jordan, her home and her cell, neither of which she had answered. The familair feeling of panic settling on his chest, Woody drove, hell-bent, down to the morgue. He spotted Garret on the other side of the safety tape and ran towards him, stopped momentarily by security. But he had been let through with a quick flash of his badge and approached Garret.

"Where's Jordan? Please tell me she's not in there!" Woody said, geustering franticly to the building above them.

Garret looked at him with a stony face. "I'm sorry," was all he could manage. Woody felt his heart sink to his knees and he remembered the last time he talked to her, the last thing he ever said to her. Never would he forget the look of complete and utter heartbreak in her eyes and on her face.

"Have they been able to make contact?" Woody asked, desperate for some way to tell Jordan that he was an idiot and to hold her in his arms.

"They're calling him as we speak," Garret said.

Woody watched as the phone beside him rang and the hostage negotiator picked it up.

"Ben. What can we do to make you let Miss Cavanaugh go?" he asked. His voice was calm and relaxed and it took all the Woody had not to punch him for his lack of concern.

"I don't want anything," the man answered back. They only knew his name because there was a warrent out for his arrest and an officer had tracked him down.

"Well then how is Miss Cavanaugh going to get out of that building?" he asked.

"She's not. Although she does look rather lonely up here with only me for company. Hold on one second," Ben Nashal said. He pressed the speakerphone button and told the negotiator to do the same. A confused expression crossed his face but he obliged. Woody and Garret were both listening with all they had for any sign of life from Jordan.

"Who's there that Jordan here knows well?" Ben asked with a hint of a smile in his tone.

The negotiator looked around and Woody and Garret raised their hands. "Garret Macy and Woody Hoyt," the negotaitor answered.

Jordan's heart skipped a beat as she heard Woody's name. "Who'll it be babe?" he turned and asked her. "Which one do you want to spend your dying moments with and spill out your hearts desires?" he asked with sarcasism and laughed.

Woody held his breath as they waited for her reply. This would be his chance to reconsile with Jordan. If she choose him.

"Garret Macy."


	3. Do You Still Love Him?

**Ok guys...heres the next chapter! Enjoy!**

XXXXXXXXXX 

"Ben how do we know that Dr Cavanaugh is still alive and that this isn't some trap to get another victim?" Ralph Malone, the hostage negotiator, asked.

The other end of the phone was silent for a second before they heard a gruff 'come here', a scuffle, and then Ben telling Jordan to say something.

"Hey Garret. Top of the morning to ya," she replied quirkily. Outside the building, neither Garret nor Woody were fooled by the facade.

"Jordan are you ok? Are you hurt?" Garret asked. Woody stood beside him and held his breath.

"No I'm fine. Really. Are you coming up?" she replied. Woody and Garret could both hear the undertone of panic in her voice that she had masked.

"Ya Jordan I'll be right up. Hang tight," Garret said.

"Will do," Jordan replied before she was torn away from the phone and Ben took over.

"No tricks," he began, his voice filled with menace, "Or your precious Dr Cavanaugh will be the next person on your list of autopsies." And then he hung up.

"He can't go up there alone. He needs a cop to go with him," Woody pleaded. He needed to see that Jordan was all right with his own eyes and would make any excuse to go up with Garret.

"You heard Ben. He's serious. He'll kill her and blow up that whole building if we don't do as he asks right now," Malone said. "But I'll make you a deal Hoyt. We'll hook up a inature camera to Dr Macy and that way we can see and hear everything that goes on up there. Does that work for you?"

Woody begrudingly nodded. He wanted to be in the same room as Jordan but since that wasn't a possibility, he would settle for watching on camera.

It was ten minutes before Garret was all set up to go in. The littlest pinprick of a camera had been attached to the top of his pocket on his dress shirt and would catch all images and sound that they needed. It would also give the bomb squad a chance to see exactly what they were dealing with and how they could go about getting Jordan out safely without blowing up half the building. When everything was set up, Garret went in.

He took the elevator up and walked to the crypt, silently surveying the scene around him. Jordan was sitting on one of the exaination tables, swinging her legs back and forth as though she was bored. But the expression on her face said otherwise. It broke Woody's heart to see her like that. He and a dozen other people were all crowded around the moniter, observing everything that went on.

The look on Jordan's face was one of sheer terror, mixed with instant relief when she saw Garret standing in the doorway. She immediatly got up and ran towards him, throwing her arms around the back of his neck. He held her to him, one hand softly stroking her long, dark hair, the other wrapped protectivly around her waist. When she pulled away, Woody could see that she had tears in her eyes.

'Dr Macy. What a pleasure," Nashal said from the other side of the room. "Well if this isn't just a lovely little reunion." He had a smirk plastered on his face that made both Woody and Garret's blood boil.

"Ben Nashal I presume," Garret said, taking Jordan's hand and walking her over to a chair. He placed her gently down and sat down in the chair next to her.

"You presume correctly," he replied smugly.

"Is there something you plan on accomplishing here tonight?" Jordan asked, her voice dripping with venom.

"Ummmm ... not particularliy no. I guess you could just say I was bored. You see, I made this bomb about a week ago and I had nothing better to do with it. So I decided to come here and hold you lovely people hostage. It also helps that you are the sons of bitches that put away my brother for killing his wife and son. Which, by the way, he is innocent of." He gave Jordan and Garret a grimmace and Woody could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he watched.

Jordan and Garret remained silent. "Felicia and Thomas Nashal. Wife beaten severly, blunt force trauma to the head. But that's not what killed her. She was left bleeding and unconcious for at least an hour before someone put her out of her misery. Rope was found tied to the stairs, right beside where Felicia's body was found. We figure the little boy was tied to it, watched his mother die, before getting his turn. He had three broken ribs, one of which punctured his lung. Was left on the floor for what looks like an hour before being shot excuction style in the back of the head like his mother," Jordan rattled off.

It finally clicked for Garret; he couldn't believe he hadn't made the connection sooner. That had been the case he and Jordan had been working on, the one they had just wrapped up. It was after they had both testified that Garret had driven her home only hours earlier. Felicia and her son Thomas Nashal, both found beaten and shot in their apartment. The husband had no alibi and it was bluntly clear that he had killed them.

"Your brother's epithelials and prints were all over the gun which was left on the kitchen counter. His shoe impressions matched the bruises on his sons body. He had no alibi," Jordan addressed Nashal. "Ben, your brother killed his wife and son."

Ben looked daggers at Jordan. If looks could kill, she would hae been dead. "I think it's time Dr Macy leaves now," he smirked. Jordan could tell that he loved having power over people and being in control.

"What!" Garret protested. "I'm not leaving without Jordan!"

"Garret it's fine. Just go," Jordan said.

He stood up from his chair shaking his head. "Stay safe," he whispered in her ear before walking to the exit. He stopped at the frame of the door and looked back into Jordan's face. But what both Ben and Jordan were oblivious to was the fact that he was stalling; taking the camera carefully off his shirt and sticking it to the frame of the door where everything could be seen. He gave Jordan a last, sad smile before walking away.

XXXXXXXXXX 

"Nice ove Dr M," Woody congratulated him as he rejoined the group by the camera screen. Nothing too eventfull had happened since Garret had left but he needed to ask anyways.

"How's she holding up?" he asked.

"Seems to be doing ok," Woody replied.

Up the in crypt, Jordan was starting to get scared. "So ..." Ben started. "Lets talk about Detective Hoyt shall we?" he asked, his usual smirk on his face. "You were pretty quick to choose Garret Macy when you were given the option of who you wanted up here."

Back down on the ground, Woody's heart pounded against his chest. His mouth got dry and he could feel beads of sweat starting to form on his brow.

"I've known Garret a long time," Jordan replied.

"But you would think that you would choose the man you were in love with to spend your dying moments," he grinned.

Jordan's face momentarily betrayed her when a flicker of surprise graced her face. But she instantly went back to looking nonchallant. "And why would you say that I'm in love with him? You've never even met him."

"Oh you know. I hear things. I watch you. I know that he was shot and that after that the two of you just ... stopped talking at all. For the most part."

Jordan was unnerved by the ammount he knew about her life and Woody was terrified. This subject always brought out the worst in Jordan and he was afraid that if she started mouthing off about how it was none of his buisness it would be the death of her.

"So what happened between the two of you?" he asked.

'That's none of your buisness," Jordan replied.

"Oh actually I think it is," he said, raising the gun and pointing it into Jordan's face. 'I'll tell you what. you tell me everything there is to know about you and Woody Hoyt, and I'll do something for you."

"Wht exactly can you do for me?" Jordan asked coldly.

He took a silent second to contemplate her question. "I can let you go."

Jordan took a deep breath before nodding. "Fine. Where do you want me to start?" She was extremely reluctant on talking about this but she figured that if it would save her life, she might as well.

"What happened when he was shot. Why all the sudden the two of you stopped talking."

"Because I told him I loved him."

Whatever Ben was expecting, it clearly wasn't that. On the ground, Garret and Lily, who had just joined them, looked to Woody in awe. He gave them a guilty smile.

"Excuse me?" Ben asked.

"When he was being wheeled into surgery, I told him I loved him."

"Then why did the two of you stop talking? You would think that when a man who's been in love with you for the past four years hears that you love him back, he would be extatic."

"You would think."

"So then what happened?"

Jordan took a deep breath before going on. "When he woke up, it turns out that he heard what I told him ... and he accused me of pitying him and that I only said it because I thought he was going to die. And then he kicked he out of his room, and his life. For good."

Lily looked incrediously at Woody with a look of pure loathing on her face. She popped him on the arm in anger.

"Woody how could you do that too her? You know how hard it is for her to open up and let peope in!" Lily vented. Woody just gave her another guilty smile.

"Wow. Now I only have one more question for you," Ben informed Jordan.

'And what would that be?" she asked with cold hatred.

"Do you still love him?"


	4. Who Wants To Die First?

Jordan looked into his eyes, daring him to start laughing and tell her it was a joke. But his face remained stony and cold as he waited for her reply.

"It's a simple question. Do you still love him?" Ben asked.

"Nothing in love is simple," Jordan replied quietly.

On the ground, not a muscle was moved as Woody, Garret, Lily, the hostage negotiator, and a bunch of Boston PD cops stood around. All of them felt as though they were watching something personal, something they shouldn't be seeing. Which they were.

"You guys mind?" Lily asked with a look that said 'go to hell'.

The cops tipped thier hats to them before walking off, leaving only Garret, Lily, Woody and the negotiator to the monitor.

"Answer the question," Ben commanded, his voice no longer patient and understanding.

"Yes," Jordan replied, more to herself than Nashal.

"What's that? I didn't hear you?" he asked sarcasticly. He had damn well heard what she had said, he just wanted to break her heart even more and cause her more pain.

"I said, yes!" she anwered, her voice bordering on panic.

Lily turned her eyes to Woody who was staring at the screen unblinkingly. His jaw was clenched with the realization that Jordan was telling the truth all along, that she wasn't lying to him when she told him. He but his tongue as a way to will the tears not to spill over the brim of his eyes.

Up in the crypt, Ben smiled vindictivly in sucess. He had managed what even the man of her heart had not accomplished. he had forced her to open up and finally reveal her true feelings. Woody couldn't help but think that maybe if he had held her hostage at gunpoint and forced her to tell him that she loved him that this whole mess could have been avoided.

"Can I go now?" Jordan asked. Her voice was tired and weary, three days without sleep finally catching up with her.

"Nope," Nashal answered simply.

"What?" Jordan yelled, jumping up from her spot on the exam table and taking a step towards him. "We had a deal! I told you everything about me and detective Hoyt and you let me go! You can't go back on that!"

"Actually I can, and I will. You see, I have the bomb, the gun, and overall, the power," he said.

Jordan clenched her fists and pushed her toes along the bottom of her heels to stop herself from running at him and strangling him with her bare hands. Her jaw tightened and she took deep breaths to calm herself.

"I think it's time to bring another guest up here," Ben said with a seductive smile.

"What is this Dr Phil? Just let me go!" Jordan pleaded.

"No can do babe," he said with a smirk as he walked over to the phone and dialed down.

"Ben what can I do for you?" Malone asked.

"Mr Malone would you be so kind as to send up Detective Hoyt for us?" he asked.

Woody's eyes practicualy popped out of his head when he heard that he was to go up. For someone who had wanted so bad to go up and see Jordan, he was now surprisingly tentative.

"Woody so help you God if you say _anything _to upset her. And I'll deal with you later," she said menacingly as he left their side and walked into the building.

He noticed it was earily quiet as he walked down the hall, the only sound the echo of his dress shoes off the morgue walls. he followed the twisting path to the crpyt and took a deep breath before walking in. He looked around the room cautiously, taking in the expression on Jordan's face and the grimmace on Ben's.

"How's it going Jo?" he asked with a what he hoped to be comforting smile.

"Just another day at the office," she replied. Woody noticed that she didn't even bother to try and smile. She looked so careworn, so exhausted, that Woody wanted to wrap her in his arms and let her sleep, to hold her tightly and never let her go. But he knew that if he tried it she would probably smack him upside the head and kick him in the balls. And no one would blame her for doing it, now that they all knew about the pain he had caused her.

He walked across the threshold and to the chair beside her, stealing a sideways glance at her frame slumped in her chair. Sensing his crystal blue eyes on her, she looked up, attempting a small smile but only coming out looking worried. Her eyes still on his, she reached out her hand and found his fingers, lacing her around them and squeezing them tight.

Woody was momentarily caught back in surprise but squeezed her fingers back. He lifted up his arm and draped it around her shoulder. Her body flinched at his touch but her relaxed at the warmth of his skin and rested her head on his shoulder. With the hand that wasn't clenching hers, he ran his fingers through her hair and pressed her lips to the crown of her head.

"Aww well isn't this the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Ben sneered from across the room.

Jordan and Woody looked up by neither moved from the comfortable spot they were in.

"Now, which one of you wants to die first?"


	5. Put It Where The Sun Don't Shine

"Dude," Woody said, still not moving from the position he was supporting Jordan in. "Is this really nessecary? I mean, what's this going to accomplish other than landing yourself in a four by four cell with a man named Shirley?"

Ben sneered. "Well _detective,_" he growled. "Family is everything and I need to do justice for my brother."

"And holding an ME and a homicide detective hostage is going to accomplish justice _how_?" Woody pondered aloud.

Ben looked away from Woody's face and turned his back to them, staring at the white wall facing him. "It just will ok? It just will." Woody noticed he was saying it more to himself than he was either him or Jordan. He looked down to her, her tiny frame trembling under his arm. Her silence was starting to scare him.

"Jo you ok?" he asked soothingly.

Jordan met his gaze by tilting her head upwards and nodded. "Just tired. And in desperate need of coffee."

Woody smiled appreciativly at her humor. "Ben can I go get us some coffee?" Woody asked, turning his attention back to the man opposite them.

He turned back around to face them, his hideous features accented in the dim light. Jordan took notice of the expression on his face. It looked almost like one of defeat and couldn't help but take a little pride in that. "Only if we all go together," he said with a raise of his eyebrows.

Jordan and Woody exchanged a look before Jordan pulled away and got up, leading the way to the break room and sitting down in the first chair she saw. She was really beginning to frighten Woody. She was quiet, unmouthy, listened to everything Ben told her to do, and didn't seem to have the strength to stand for longer than a minute.

Ben took a seat next to her, leaving Woody to get the coffee. "How do you guys want it?" he asked, not daring to turn his back on them.

"Two creams, one sugar," Ben answered immediatly.

"Black. No sugar," Jordan replied.

Woody gave her a questioning look but prepared her coffee the way she asked. "Since when do you drink your coffee black?" he asked with a smile as he turned and handed them their freshly brewed cups. He sat down in the chair on the other side of Jordan, studying her intently and trying to see what was wrong.

She was silent for a long moment and Woody wondered if she had heard him. "Jo?" he asked cautiously.

"Since the night you were shot," she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the black liquid in her mug. She swirled it around in her hands, the warmth emmenating off the glass a comfort from the cold of the crypt.

Woody wasn't sure how to reply. So he settled for a simple "Oh."

Jordan eyes maintained locked with her coffee and Woody was unsure of how to console her. She looked so uncharacteristiclly broken, so fragile. Woody continued to stare at her, trying to find some sort of the old head-strong Jordan he knew and loved.

The three of them finished their coffee in silence, not one of them speaking a word. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, more of a relaxed, calm silence; the complete opposite of what you would expect in a hostage situation.

"I think it's time we went back to the crypt," Ben finally said.

Woody looked over to Jordan in the expectation that she would protest, but she did not. It was then that he noticed her chattering jaw and goosebump clad arms. He reached his hand down to her leg and took hold of her hand, squeezing her fingers in a comforting way. But it seemed like she hadn't even noticed.

"Actually I think it's best if we stay in here," Woody interjected.

"Excuse me?" he asked threateningly.

Woody lowered his voice and leaned arcoss the table to talk. "Look at her," he said, motioning to Jordan who still hadn't moved. "There's something seriously wrong with her. She's never this quiet! And she's freezing cold," Woody said, the iciness of her fingers resting on the back of his hand giving him shivers. "The crypt has to be kept cold and that's the last place she needs to be right now. I'm begging you, just let her go!"

Woody lent back against his chair and Jordan seemed to have snapped out of her reverie, or she was at least more attentive. For a second, Woody thought that Ben had reasoned and was going to let them go, but then he pulled out his gun and pointed it into Jordan's face.

"Hey hey hey!" Woody shouted. The fear in Jordan's eyes was back. "Put it away man!"

"And just where do you suggest I put it? Her head?" He shouted back, his voice like a volcanic eruption.

"Put it where the sun don't shine dude! I don't really care! Just put it away!" Woody yelled back.

Ben clenched his jaw in anger before standing up and running out of the room and down the hall to the crypt. Woody and Jordan got up and ran after him, stopping and leaning against the frame to watch him.

He stood in the middle of the room, gun turned to himself, staring into Jordan's dark pools of eyes. She stared back unblinkingly. "This is the final resting place for everyone else. Why not save you the trip and make it mine," Ben said.

There was a deafening bang as he pulled the trigger, followed by a loud, "NO!" from both Woody and Jordan. Blood went everywhere, spraying the walls, the floor, and parts of Woody and Jordan. When the two reopened their clamped shut eyes, Ben Nashal lay dead on the floor, the gun still laying limply in his hand, blood pooling around his head.

XXXXXXXXXX 

Jordan awoke with a splitting headache and in an unfamiliar bed. She sat up and looked around, her heart reacing inside her chest. As things swam in and out of focus, realisation hit her. It was Woody's room. Partial bits of the previous day sat in clumps in her brain, nothing coming back fully.

_"She's in shock Woody,_" Garret had told Woody as he stared into Jordan's distant eyes. _"She needs to sleep. And I don't want her alone."_

Woody could take a hint. _"Don't worry Dr M. She can spend the night at my place. I'll ask her tomorrow if she wants to go to work but you know her; I' sure she'll be in. Either way I'll call you,"_ Woody had said softly, watching Jordan the whole time sitting on the back of the ambulance being checked out.

_"Alright Hoyt,"_ Garret had replied. _"Take care of her."_

Woody gently creeked the door open and surveyed his room. Through the darkness he could see Jordan sitting up in his bed, her breathing ragged and heavy. He hit the light switch and watched as she flinched from the sudden change of dark to light.

"Hey your awake," he said softly. His soothing voice a welcome to her aching head.

"Umm ... ya. I guess I am," she replied, looking around the room. When her eyes caught sight of what she was wearing, she looked down to her shirt. All she was wearing was a siple blue camisole, a hell of a lot less than what she was wearing when she last remembered.

"We didn't ... you know," she asked, giving him a worried smile.

Woody looked at her for a second, a confused expression on his face. Then he caught on. "No! No! I mean ... no. Jordan. No!" he said, finding it extremely hard to prevent a laugh.

Jordan heaved a sigh of relief. "Good. Well I mean ... not good. Good that ... ahk! It's just good because I don't really remember a lot about last night." she said with an appologetic smile.

He grinned widely back. "It's fine Jordan. Really. Do you remember Ben?"

Her face fell, an instant indication to Woody that she did. "Sorry."

She looked up into his face, her eyes shining, not with tears, but with an emotion Woody hadn't seen since the night he was shot as he was being wheeled into surgery. It was the raw, open emotion of love. "Thanks for taking care of me."

Woody was speechless. "No problem," he said when he finally found his tongue. He had been so taken aback by the sudden realization that he almost forgot what he had done to her, and the concequences he was about to face the next time he saw Lily. Damn had she been angry.

"Why did you choose Garret, Jordan?" he asked suddenly. Her features remained expressionless.

"Woody ..." she stalled.

"Just answer the question."

She took a deep breath before talking. "Because I was afraid you would say no."

"That I would say no? That I would say no to what?" he asked, awe-struck.

"That if I chose you you would tell me that you didn't want to come up. I mean, the last time I told you what I wanted you kicked me out of your life! I couldn't face that kind of rejection again," she said, her eyes shining this time with tears.

Woody sat down on the bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. "Jordan ..."

She didn't say anything but hung her head low on her chest, jaw quivering.

"Jordan look at me."

She raised her head and stared into his eyes, finding it impossible to look away.

"Never again am I going to turn you away," he said, scooching closer to her and wrapping her in his arms. She didn't pull away but allowed herself to be swept up into his arms, his fingers coddling her head, whispering in her ear that everything would be fine, that never again would she feel that way.

But one question remained in Jordan's mind. 'Was he telling the truth?'


End file.
